


that girl is stronger than the raging sea

by serenitysea



Series: i didn't know that we could break a silver lining [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, all the sads, these feels are nothing we were ever trained for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 03:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3234101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>skyeward does <i>the little mermaid</i>. sort of.</p><p>(part of the skyeward au fairytale remix series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	that girl is stronger than the raging sea

**Author's Note:**

> i'm actually really quite sorry about this.

When Skye first meets Grant, she is on a forbidden trek to the surface.   
  
Her father has told her countless times that she is not allowed to interact with humans; that they are dangerous creatures who will only hurt the merfolk. That their greed and selfishness can and will overtake the Kingdom of Atlantis and so they can never know what lies beneath the surface of the waters they sail upon.  
  
But when she rescues Grant from being tossed overboard in a horrible storm and waits by his side until he awakens —   
  
When he looks at her like she is the most incredible thing he has ever seen, without a shred of concern for his own well-being or survival —   
  
When she realizes that she has gone her whole life without anyone looking at her that way and now she _cannot_ go back —   
  
She is forced to conclude that her father is wrong.   
  
*  
  
Skye thinks her father is too rigid in his views.   
  
She is the only daughter he has and so she has always sought to support him. Most of the time, he rules with a steady hand and the golden trident that is never far from his reach.   
  
Most of the time, she is proud of him.   
  
Except for his views about life on the Surface.   
  
And while she can't exactly tell him that she's been there — that humans aren't actually all bad at all, that they are (at least the ones she has observed and of course, Grant — who she has personally interacted with) funny and kind and _alive_ in a way that merfolk never can be.   
  
She likes how free she is when she is with Grant; that he never makes her feel like her thoughts are to be dismissed or rendered inconsequential because they are not the _popular_ viewpoint. She likes that he doesn't require anything of her — simply that she be herself.   
  
She likes who she gets to be with she is with him.   
  
(She loves it, actually.)  
  
*  
  
And so, they fall into a steady routine.   
  
Jemma and Fitz cover for her while she swims to a private cove nestled in between deep waters. Grant says it isn't a very far distance from where he lives, and can sail to meet her — and often does — when the weather permits and he does not need to attend to his other duties.   
  
  
(Grant is a prince. This doesn't bother her, because she knows all about the burden of royalty and how it weighs upon a person. She doesn't tell him right away that she also of royal descent because she has the feeling that it is a rare occasion when he feels comfortable enough to open up to anyone and speak of his life.)  
  
(When the time comes, she will tell him.)  
  
  
He is fascinated by her viewpoint, often throwing out questions to seek her counsel. "And if they disagree about how the property is to be divided up, what then?"  
  
Skye lifts her shoulders in a shrug. He has explained what _property_ is but she doesn't understand how one can claim something as permanent as the land beneath their feet when it has stood there before they existed and long after they will have died.   
  
"Give it to the people. It's meant to be shared, right?"  
  
This, she knows. Though the palace in Atlantis is physically where she and her father rest their head, the rest of the seas do not belong to them. Her father rules over them in a way that encourages growth and life within the vast depths of the sea. He doesn't own it anymore than a single Atlantian does.   
  
It is shared and maintained by all. It is the only way she's ever known.   
  
*  
  
There is a day she loses track of time.   
  
Grant had expressed how he wished they had more than a few hours between sunrise and sunset to spend together. He knew she had to return home and would not hear of her leaving after dark because he was afraid for her safety. When she had tried to tell him that nothing in the sea would hurt her, that she grew up night swimming with cool shadows and dark waters surrounding her — he grew agitated.   
  
He tells her of the events leading up to the shipwreck that led to the death of so many of his men — and would have led to his own, if she had not been there to save him.   
  
That on the Surface, they believe there is a darker force at work causing distress and very often destruction of night sailors.   
  
Skye feels a shiver race down her spine. There is only one dark force she knows capable of such mayhem: the sea witch, Lorelei.   
  
For although Lorelei had been banished a century ago and never heard from again — though it should be impossible that she could be loosed and causing the death of humans as she had been expressly forbidden to interfere with — there is no one else with that kind of power.   
  
She and Grant argue for the first time ever — they haven't always agreed, but they had always tried to see the other's viewpoint — and the experience has her thrown totally off-kilter. Judging by the frustrated look on his face, Grant feels the same way.   
  
"I'm sorry," Skye says, slipping into the water and propping her arms on the ledge of the rock where he stands. She is forced to look up at him until he grows exasperated with the angle of eye contact and drops to sit beside her.   
  
"Just," Grant sighs heavily, raking a hand through his hair. "Don't shut me out. If there's something you know that can help save my men, _tell_ me. We're equals in this. I trust you."  
  
The overwhelming emotions of shock and relief hit her hard and she actually loses her grip, content to float in the water while she sorts through how she feels.   
  
"You really mean that?"   
  
Grant reaches for her, thumb brushing her cheek comfortingly. "Of course I do." He pulls her toward him gently, careful to not to overbalance (and that's what all of this is, really; it's a balancing act of who knows what and how much she can reveal to the men she loves).   
  
It seems almost natural the way their lips meet — like they have done this a hundred times before; like she's kissed him in another lifetime and will kiss him like this in the next — and knowing this, she doesn't know how she can be without it, without him.   
  
Pulling away is like the rush she'd gotten when breathing pure oxygen after she'd hit the Surface for the first time. It's a heady feeling, laced with the promise of more to come and sense of permanency that she will always associate with home.   
  
Grant looks awestruck. "It's never been like that before."   
  
Skye brings her hand up and laces her fingers with his. She is bizarrely comforted by the fact that he is as adrift as she feels, thrown about and at the mercy of her emotions.   
  
When she opens her mouth to reply a golden glow illuminates the horizon, temporarily blinding in its intensity.   
  
Her father beckons.   
  
"I have to go." Skye gives his hand a quick squeeze and propels herself upward to kiss him one last time. When she pulls away, they are both gasping.   
  
Grant recovers first, tangling a hand in her hair. "Be careful."    
  
(Theirs is a dangerous love because it will _consume_ them, and to hell with the consequences or the people in their way.)  
  
She winks playfully, the affection in her eyes glows strongly and only serves to fuel that reckless streak she has had since she was a teenager. "I make no promises."   
  
*  
  
When she reenters the front gates of Atlantis, the palace feels cold. There is hardly any illumination to speak of and there are guards posted at every exit.   
  
Something is very wrong.   
  
She meets up with her father's adviser, who does not offer any details other than her presence being required in the throne room, post-haste.   
  
When the doors part and she catches sight of who is before her father, Skye cannot help but gasp.   
  
Grant was right. Lorelei is _here_.  
  
The king is fighting to hang on to his temper. "You know the command, Lorelei! _No one_ goes to the Surface. _No one_ interferes with human life."   
  
Lorelei smirks and gives Skye a lingering glance. "I guess I must have gotten a little hazy on the rules —" The King draws himself up and warning power begins to build in the trident "— because I'm not the only one venturing Above these days."  
  
Skye feels her stomach drop. Her heart is beating so loudly she doesn't know how everyone else can't hear it.   
  
"Who _dares_?"  
  
The pleased look on her face is just short of being obscene. "Such a pity that you're too busy casting stones at the rest of us, you were completely unaware of the treachery in your own glass palace."  
  
The King turns horrified, betrayed eyes on his only daughter and shakes his head in disbelief. "Skye —"   
  
"I'm sorry," Skye whispers, resisting the urge to drop her head in shame.   
  
The news travels throughout the entire kingdom in a matter of minutes, and by then it is far too late to repair the damage.   
  
*  
  
Her head hurts from the circles their argument has gone in and there is a permanent lump lodged in her throat. Despite her best efforts (and the fact that he rarely denied her what she wanted when it was within his power to give), Skye cannot make her father see reason.  
  
He has a thunderous expression on his face, the kind that brooks no further discussion. He is _finished_. "You can _never_ return."   
  
"I have to. He's waiting for me."  
  
The devastated look in her father's eyes nearly undoes her.   
  
"Daddy, _please_." She places her hand in the middle of her chest, where her heart feels like it's about to burst into hundreds of pieces. "I _love_ him."  
  
And the Sea King _roars_ with grief.   
  
*  
  
Everything glows with the kind of hazy gold power that makes her eyes shut from the intensity.   
  
She feels a familiar hand cup her face and what feels like her father kissing her forehead gently —   
  
— and then everything goes black.  
  
*  
  
Skye washes up on the beach where she'd brought Grant after his rescue.   
  
There is a gold ring on her finger that strangely refuses to budge.   
  
And there's more.   
  
She has _legs_.   
  
There is a joyous shout and she looks up to see Grant smiling so widely it is a wonder that he doesn't outshine the sun.   
  
"You're _here_!" He scrambles to where she is still submerged in the shallows. "And you're… _naked_."   
  
Skye doesn't know what _naked_ means but judging but the dark look of approval (and something else) in his eyes, she imagines it can't be that bad.   
  
(She isn't wrong.)  
  
*  
  
It is a few days until she gets the hang of walking on land. Grant is all too happy to carry her everywhere but it soon loses its appeal — and the headstrong, independent princess below the sea makes her frustration known.   
  
Grant is not used to having people disagree with his choices and there are more than few tense moments that have the staff at the castle walking around carefully for days. Eventually he comes around and she learns how to express her feelings in a more _useful_ manner — turns out there are some wonderful things to accomplish when one is without their clothes — and so the entire kingdom breathes a collective sigh of relief when their marriage is announced.   
  
*  
  
There are nights when Grant is asleep that Skye walks down to the beach and stares out at the sea.   
  
It calls to her sometimes, keeping her from slumber and haunting her with all the things she had left behind. There is no news from Atlantis and she has only cobbled together the barest of details based on hastily whispered rumors at the docks and the instinct she feels when she steps into the sea.   
  
Ultimately it had been her choice to live among the humans that had cost her father everything.   
  
Without the conviction of his own daughter's support, the merfolk had begun turning on him. They questioned his rulership and cast heavy shadows on his accomplishments and reign of peace. Because he loved her, he used the last of his power to grant Skye the ability to live on the Surface.  
  
She never got to say goodbye.   
  
*  
  
It is only once that she sees Jemma and Fitz, and it's for such a short period of time that she can hardly believe it.   
  
They look tired. _Older_.   
  
"What's wrong?"   
  
Used to answering her questions from a lifetime of time spent together, it is Fitz who opens his mouth in reply.   
  
Jemma elbows him sharply, plastering a bright smile on her face. "It's nothing," she lies, casting a troubled look over her shoulder. "It's just that we probably won't be able to come back for a very long time and we'll miss you."   
  
Each time they are here is a threat to their own lives and Skye feels guilty for wanting to see more of them. "Okay," she hugs them both impulsively, disregarding the water that seeps from their skin into her clothes. "Please be careful."   
  
They disappear with a swish of fins and leave her to sit on the rocks and quietly wonder what life is like in Atlantis these days. She is no longer responsible for the underwater kingdom and still hasn't found the right words to tell Grant the enormity of who she was before becoming his wife.   
  
"Hey beautiful," he kisses her in greeting, as is their custom. (They never take their relationship for granted; they are always affectionate, even in venues that are not entirely appropriate and pretty much say _to hell with the rules_ to anyone who dares bat a disbelieving eyelash in their direction.)  
  
"Hey." She leans her head against his arm and they both pretend not to notice the tears dripping from her eyes.   
  
*  
  
(Grant knows that Skye is restless.   
  
He knows she can't sleep at night, that something keeps her from being one hundred percent happy while she is with him. The guilt of keeping her away from her home eats at him and he feels incredibly selfish for wanting to keep her by his side.   
  
When he suggests sailing or taking a day to themselves and explore the lagoon and grotto beyond the palace walls, she always declines — which he somehow finds perversely reassuring.  
  
He's terrified that she will leave him.)  
  
*  
  
Though times are hard and it seems like they are constantly in a state of adjustment, life is good for Skye and Grant. The kingdom prospers under his rule as the unique insight provided by his wife settles most of the disputes and creative ways to solve problematic situations. Skye finds her way and often helps out the local market with ideas to import and export product rather than struggling to produce everything — including that which does not grow or can be manufactured easily — there.   
  
The people love and accept her as their own and she smiles with the kind of warmth that brings life to everyone who crosses her path. Grant clearly adores his wife and there is talk of adding to their family of two.   
  
Basically things turn out okay.   
  
They live happily ever after.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*  
  
Well, no.   
  
…They actually _don't_.   
  
*  
  
In the third year of their marriage, things take a turn for the worse.   
  
Skye's nightmares occur with increasing frequency, denying her and Grant the ability to sleep peacefully and raising tempers to near boiling-point on a regular basis.   
  
She doesn't tell him what she dreams of, what she sees — because she doesn't know how to make him understand. How to explain the crippling, _crushing_ guilt she feels when she thinks of Atlantis. How to convey that her nightmares aren't nightmares at all — they're more like visions of things to come or things that have already happened — a terrifying prospect, either way.   
  
Grant pleads for her to tell him what is going on and rails against her mumbled _you wouldn't understand_ 's, saying that she's never been able to trust him as much as he had trusted her.   
  
Skye goes pale with hurt and then flushes deeply with anger and tosses in his face that there is more than one royal in the room and that she doesn't have to answer to his emotional manipulation just because he hates being kept in the dark.   
  
(Of all the ways she had planned to tell him who she was, this was not one she had accounted for.)  
  
A messenger knocks on the door, shattering the tense moment (probably for the best) and hands over the latest correspondence from the Orient.   
  
Grant reads the missive twice, swearing darkly. He grits his teeth in frustration and orders that all of the nearby sea-based Kingdoms confirm or deny their allegiance to the crown.   
  
Skye frowns, because it sounds like Grant is accusing his extended family and friends of treason.   
  
She opens her mouth to ask Grant if his decision is truly wise, but he shakes his head before she can get the words out.   
  
"Looks like I'm not the only one who hates being kept in the dark." He kisses her goodbye with bruising strength.   
  
Skye hates that she wants him just as desperately as she wants to throttle him. She feels off-kilter again, like the last day she'd had in Atlantis, before everyone had found out what a traitor she'd become.  
  
The sea churns in agitation and for the first time, she misses the illusion of placid calm below the Surface.  
  
*  
  
The reports come back with grave news.   
  
Lorelei has taken the seas.   
  
It is becoming impossible to travel without paying the Sea Witch her due and she takes lives of all who dare to defy her. Those who swear allegiance are able to keep the lines of trade and travel open — but at great cost to all who fight against her.  
  
Skye stares out at the inky blackness and knows there is only one course of action that can right this horrible injustice. She has to bring back the balance.   
  
Grant is fast asleep when she kisses him goodbye. The exhaustion of pleading with the people and impressing to them that he had their best interests at heart has finally caught up with him, and sinks under the awareness he normally has when she stirs in the middle of the night.   
  
"I love you," she whispers, sliding off her wedding band and the gold ring she'd worn since she had come to the Surface. This time, she does not have any difficulty removing them. (It is time.) She drops her rings on the nightstand. "I will _always_ love you."   
  
*  
  
She walks to the waters edge without fear; this is her kingdom and though she has been away for too long, it will always receive her without condemnation — regardless of who is temporarily commanding the seas.   
  
Without the rings to suppress her abilities, she is only about waist-deep when her tail reforms.   
  
It _hurts_. It's like a visceral, stinging reminder of all she had given up to live with Grant, behind the stone walls of their castle and the dreams they had carved into reality.  
  
(She was a princess of the sea before becoming a princess on land. But it is not the gentle rule of a princess that will win this fight.)   
  
She breathes through the panic of losing all the air in her lungs; surrenders to the helpless feeling of _in between_ as her body remembers how to do this, how to _live_ underwater again.   
  
And when she opens her hand, it is with the consuming power that is her birthright — forming the golden trident her father had used for hundreds of years.   
  
Skye grits her teeth and opens her mouth in an ear-piercing scream that powerfully travels for miles. She points the trident down and sends a shockwave of energy through the seas.   
  
A heavy crown forms on her head, solid gold (with garnets winking the color of Grant's eyes at twilight) and regal, clearly declaring her official reign as Queen.   
  
*  
  
Lorelei does not put up a fight when she is dragged before Skye to stand trial.   
  
She smirks with the pleasure of one who has cheated death before and intends to do so again, very soon.   
  
"You are hereby accused of treason against the crown," Skye says, her voice unwavering as she stares down, for all intents and purposes, her father's killer. "For this charge, you will receive no mercy. Instead you will be —"  
  
"— Did he mourn, when you told him?" Lorelei's face is lit up in delight. "Maybe even cry, when he realized that you were _never_ coming back? He always thought you'd leave him."   
  
Though the tears shimmer in her eyes, Skye does not otherwise react. "— sentenced to death. There will be no counsel to defend your case as —"  
  
"— And you knew, of course you did: Taking over meant kissing him goodbye _forever_. I'll bet you hate that you're back in Atlantis. All you ever wanted was to be happy, away from this underwater _prison_ and instead, you're ruling it — like it's a golden noose around your neck."   
  
"— _Enough_." Skye clenches her hand around the trident and a collar of cast iron forms around Lorelei's neck. It denies her the ability to speak but when even her eyes are cruelly taunting, Skye has no recourse but to send her to the palace dungeons.   
  
She can't look at her now.   
  
*  
  
Advisers come to her with heaps of problems waiting to be solved.

There are tangled webs of politics and corruption that have to be sorted through — Lorelei was all too happy to let the kingdom run wild during her reign, and without a proper sovereign, nothing had been kept in check. Skye relies heavily on Fitz and Jemma to keep her informed about the general morale of Atlantis as well as what as transpired in her absence. Their advice is invaluable, and has the added benefit of drawing together the three friends once again.   
  
The days are long and the nights stretch on into eternity. She does not sleep.   
  
And still, she waits for Grant.   
  
Wonders how long it will be until he knows that the sea he so loved to travel is once again safe. How long until he stops looking for her around every corner. Until he understands why she had to leave.   
  
(If he'll _ever_ understand why she had to leave.)  
  
*  
  
Grant stands at the shoreline, clutching Skye's rings in his hand.   
  
"You didn't even leave a note," he murmurs, flinging the bands as far into the sea as he possibly can. A gold burst of energy pulses brightly, momentarily blinding him. When Grant removes the hand from his eyes, he exhales softly. "We deserved so much more than this."   
  
*  
  
Fitz and Jemma locate her rings.   
  
They bring them to her immediately — though it wouldn't have mattered. She knows the moment they hit the water and it is merely a formality for them to turn up.   
  
When she slides the golden ring halfway past her finger, the need for oxygen comes pressing down upon her like a vise. A vision of Lorelei's face enters her mind, looking far too thrilled at the prospect of regaining her power.   
  
Skye lets the burning ache for precious sweet air flood her lungs for another second and then wrenches the ring from her hand, slamming it down on the arm of the throne. A delicate gold chain appears and loops through the rings, nestling in her palm safely.   
  
It is with a bowed head and grieved heart that she drapes the necklace into place.   
  
She will always love him.   
  
(She will _never_ stop.)  
  


**Author's Note:**

> \+ [tumblr](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com).  
> \+ the title comes from _rescue_ by yuna.


End file.
